


A Mother's Vigil

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Family, Gen, Motherhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn refuses to leave her son's bedside after his fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mother's Vigil

"Cat, Maester Luwin is doing all he can to help Bran," her husband said. "It has been a day and a night since his fall; we should rest."

Catelyn resisted his efforts to lead her away. "I'm not leaving. Bran needs me."

"As you will," Ned said wearily. "I'll instruct the servants to make you a bed in here."

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand; he was a man. He loved their children but not like she did. She had carried each of them within her for nine months. They were part of her. She felt their pain like her own. And now one of her babies was dying before her eyes.

Catelyn perched on the edge of the chair. She wanted to lie on the bed beside Bran and hold him in her arms, but it might injure him more. She could only sit here and hold his hand. It was her nightmare come true. He liked to climb so much. She'd been so afraid he would fall one day. She'd tried everything to dissuade him from climbing high places, but nothing had worked. Now he'd fallen and he was dying and there was nothing she could do to save him.

She was a great lord's daughter and a great lord's lady wife. She considered herself a capable, intelligent woman and men said she was beautiful. None of it meant anything now. She was utterly powerless.

_Ser Steffon's wife had died birthing a babe and so had Pretty Meg who'd served at table. But Lady Minisa was different. She couldn't die. She was Mother. "Do something," Catelyn begged her father. "Don't let Mother die." Father was liege lord of the whole riverlands. He commanded armies. Surely he could make someone do something to save Mother._

_Lord Hoster fell to his knees, sobbing. He clutched her tightly. "I'm sorry, my little Cat. There's nothing I can do."_

_She was devastated. It was unthinkable that Mother wouldn't be here anymore and yet it was happening. Cat had been happy to be getting another little brother, but now she was glad the babe had died. She hated him. He'd killed Mother._

"Pray for him," Maester Luwin urged.

He only wanted her gone. But perhaps if she prayed hard enough the gods would take pity on her and spare her son. Septs were pleasing to the Seven, her old septon had said, but prayers would be heard anywhere. Catelyn slid to her knees and prayed. She begged the Mother to be merciful, to hold back the Stranger and let Bran live.

She kept her eyes on him as she prayed. There was no change. He laid there so still, scarcely breathing. Even when he slept Bran wouldn't stay still; he'd turn about, and kick at the covers, and suck his thumb. So she kept praying. She told herself she would pray until Bran opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Drink this, my lady."

Catelyn looked up at the maester, surprised to see him. She didn't how much time had passed or what else might have happened. Her voice was hoarse and her legs were numb. She took the cup he gave her and drank quickly. She started to pray again but she stumbled over the words. She felt so weak.

Maester Luwin raised her up and guided her to a cot that had not been there before. Catelyn struggled to keep her eyes open. She would make the Stranger take her too if he took her child.


End file.
